


Relativity, Objectivity, a Spark

by Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise



Series: Marlowe Fics [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Antagonism, Dialogue Heavy, Frustration, Gen, Hitch had a hard life and aint got time for his idealism, Marlowe is a passionate and adaptable cinnamon roll who just needs more time to mature, Maybe she will one day though...hmmHMMMmmm..., Philosophy, Rants, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8852626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise/pseuds/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise
Summary: Marlowe rants to Hitch while on patrol.





	

She was late, of course, and sauntered up with her trademark grin in place. It widened as she drew nearer, and mockery shimmered in her eyes. "So, how went your heroic mission?"

He sighed. "Denied."

She made a pitying noise that turned into a gloat with the glinting side-eye smirk she gave.

They started forward on patrol, along the edges of the docks and to the market place. Simmering frustration boiled over into a torrent of words. "Lazy! There is no other reason why they would've denied it. Reforming our prisons would rehabilitate a significant chunk of our whole society, revitalize our economy and make our thieves and robbers into contributing citizens. Damn lazy! And if they have enough time and money and know-how to reserve official rooms for boozing and black-market trade-hubs, they very well have enough to turn their prisons into trade schools!"

Hitch yawned. "It's a lovely day."

"They don't have to do it all at once. It wouldn't break the bank. I planned it out in time increments with budgeting and resources for each stage. I did all the calculations. It's completely reasonable. It's work, but it's reasonable. The benefits would far outweigh anything they're hoping to get from not doing it. Do they think these criminals are going to magically reform themselves? Dwindle away? Get out of prison and be good? Idiots! Titans aren't going to kill us, Hitch, we're going to rot away from inside."

She giggled. "It's alright, Marlowe. We'll be dead long before the worst of it hits."

He clenched his teeth to stifle a scathing reply. That would be playing into her hands, because for whatever reason she considered this a game. He released a quiet, measured sigh.

She stretched. "You do know I don't care at all, right?"

"Of course. But you happen to be standing there and it isn't as if you're obligated to listen." He shook his head. "Just think, if they could support themselves with a trade, they could supply the MP during their time imprisoned, boost trade and competition in the market once free, provide for themselves and their families--"

"Marlowe! You told me all of this when you were first making the plan. I don't want to hear it again!" She snickered. "Not that I'm actually listening, but your voice makes a nice background noise and I like some variation in the cadence."

He exhaled. Water lapped against the side of the canal. The temperature was nice, on the edge of autumn; warm without humidity. This stretch was largely empty, but people bustled around further to their right off the dock proper. Engaging with her would only bring more teasing, but thoughts tore through his mind and begged for release. "One person can change everything. They just have to get the ball rolling. They just have to get recognized by someone who can match ideas to power, or else work their way up to where they hold the power to make their ideas happen."

"Ah, back to the chorus again? Fine, you're a nice tenor."

"If they succeed, they're a hero. If they fail, they die a fool. They don't even get the tragic grace of martyrdom because all they ever were to the world were pretentious shells of hot air fueled by the naive belief in a dream world. Their idealism was an offense to the 'real' people, the 'enlightened' people who knew that this world would never be anything more than trash and cut down anyone who dared try to change it!"

"I love how you think you're gonna be the one guy that swoops in and saves the world." She laughed and somehow her voice took on an even greater degree of sarcasm. "Marlowe the mighty savior. There's no way he's as insignificant as the rest of us. He'll die when he decrees and not a moment sooner; the laws are all wrong because this almighty god-man hasn't approved them with a royal seal, and nobody cares for his beloved peasants because nobody was ever taught the right thing to do. If they only knew, they'd fall right into line with a big cuddle party! Oh, so righteous!" Bare brick and flat housing facades sent her laughter ringing all around them.

He shouldn't answer, but... He looked over at her. "Why is it shameful to do the right thing?"

Pink tinged her cheeks and her eyes glistened with mirth, but there was a hardness underneath. "Ahh, this again. The right thing. How are you so certain of this 'right' thing? My right could be your wrong. If you do good by me you do bad by someone else. It isn't black and white like you make it out to be."

"Not always, no. There are gray-scales. But the underlying principle should always guide our actions."

Mocking skepticism oozed from the quirk of her eyebrows and the curl of her grin. "There's a principle now?"

"Human life is intrinsically valuable and should be protected."

She laughed. "Really? How? Look--we live, we die. We're lucky if we get a little breathing space between the two. There's really no question of value for a group of accidents on a cruel rock."

He stared. "How--no! Ever since we're little, we know that hurting others is wrong--"

"That's because our ancestors realized killing all the people wasn't making more people. It's an impulse ingrained in us from the past. It means nothing. Right and wrong are individual concepts, Marlowe. The sooner you realize that the more helpful you can be, and the sooner you'll stop stirring up the pot to make things hell for everyone who doesn't agree with your idea of 'good'!"

Heat rushed to his face. "If right and wrong are only concepts--they're meaningless! There is nothing! You can't approve or condemn anyone! If I--if you were to kill me right now, it would be wrong for me but right for you, and nobody but you could tell you it was a bad thing!"

She stopped and turned to face him. "Exactly. That's the the reality of our world. You can either accept that, or hide behind fairy tales that make _you_ feel better but make everyone else hate you. Grow up, Marlowe." She spat the last three words before turning away and continuing forward.

There was a pause. "I'm not going to accept that!" He jogged up and resumed their walking pace.

She looked over at him and smiled. "Then you're delusional."

"How do you know, if there is no truth in your world? How you know _that_ truth is true?"

She shrugged. "Just makes sense, I guess."

"No, it doesn't! You can say all you want about right and wrong being individualized concepts, but if someone was to murder somebody right here--"

"Marlowe, I'm done talking about this."

"Fine, then let me rant about it out loud to myself. If someone was going to murder someone you'd jump in and attack the murderer. Why? Because it's wrong--wait. Hold on. If you say right and wrong are individualized, can you say that murder is objectively wrong?"

Her cheeks colored slightly, and the twitch in her eyebrows registered another wave of irritated disdain. "You're using some extremely black and white emotionally-arm-twisting examples in your self-ranting."

"You can't call them black and white because you just said that wasn't an option. Would you say murder is objectively, non-individually wrong?" 

"I thought you were ranting to nobody?"

"I was, I'm asking you now."

Her voice took an edge. "I said I didn't want to be asked!" 

They walked in silence a while, his heart pounding and heat pulsing through his face. He was probably flushed crimson, but she didn't care and in this leg of their patrol there were rarely any others.

She half-snorted and her head tilted back. "Walls! this means so much to you."

"It does."

She laughed. "I guess some of us have to try being a hero. Just wish I didn't have to get stuck with him for patrol duty. The wannabe hero trying to convince people that he 'really can, if he tries hard enough! They just need to listen! Yes, nothing's going their way now, but in the future!'" She looked over. "Did you ever think the problem was with you?"

"Maybe in some situations, yes. Not all of them."

Her eyebrows raised, lips parted as if ready to deliver another taunt. Then she shook her head with a cutting laugh and continued walking.

They entered the bustling market square.

A woman's voice called out above the clamor. "Marlowe!" A gray-haired shopkeep waved from inside her bread stall.

They turned and he smiled. "Mrs. Agatha, good afternoon!" He walked to the breadstand and Hitch trailed behind. "How are you?"

She had a face creased with age that lit up in a smile, her eyes nearly disappearing. "Wonderful today, now that you've dropped by. How are things? Keeping the streets safe?"

"Doing our very best, ma'am."

Hitch snorted softly.

"Who's this?" asked Agatha.

"I'm Hitch," Hitch said. "His patrol partner."

"Ah! Another hero of the force, I presume, if you're with Marlowe."

Hitch managed to hide any disdain behind a false smile, and Agatha looked back to him. "Well, I won't keep you." She beamed again. "I feel so much safer when you're around. Oh! I have something for you." She stepped to the back of her stall.

A man's voice called from the fruit display to their left. "Is that Marlowe?" Jeffery squinted over the baskets of apples. "Yes! Hey, Marlowe!" He waved.  
Marlowe waved back. "Good afternoon Mr. Jeffery! How goes it?"

"As it goes, but safer now! Here's for you and your partner." The man picked up two apples and tossed them over. Hitch and he both caught them and she sent Marlowe a dumbfounded look.

"Thank you much!"

The man sent a cheerful wave before looking back to his customers. Mrs. Agatha returned holding a paper bag. "Careful, they're straight from the oven." She handed it to him and he opened the bag. The smell of fresh-baked sourdough wafted out. "Oh, is that sourdough?"

"That was your favorite, wasn't it?" She winked.

"Ahh, thank you so much."

"Thank _you_. It feels like things are really turning around with officers like you on the force. You're a spark in a dark world, Marlowe. You're already starting to make it brighter." She folded her hands and smiled again.

"I'm very glad. Take care, ma'am."

She waved and they went further into the crowd.

An elderly man on a horse and cart approached and they stepped to the side. "Oi, Marlowe!"

"Mr. Daniel, sir."

"Thanks much for your help last week. It's so good to see the MP taking an active role in the community's defense again. You're bringing about a change for the better, young man, don't you doubt it!"

He grinned. "Yes, sir."

With a wave the man and his cart advanced.

Hitch rolled her eyes. "My word, do you know _everyone_ here?"

"Sir!" A young boy ran up. "Sir, I've just got the apprenticeship!"

Marlowe grinned. "Excellent job. Work hard at it and you'll continue to do well."

The boy beamed and ran off.

Marlowe turned to Hitch. "I helped Daniel load goods into his shop before a rainstorm. His apprentice had left without warning and he was struggling. A few days later I caught that boy attempting to steal bread from Agatha after already stealing from Jeffery the fruit vendor. I sent him into the care of Daniel to be his new apprentice, hoping that it would end his life of crime and give him a chance at being a real citizen."

A female voice called from the crowd. "Marlowe!"

Hitch's face was incredulous and somehow disgusted. "Really?"

A young woman barreled to them and clasped his hand. "They've accepted me." Tears ran down her face. "I can't thank you enough, I really can't. You are an angel. Thank you so much!" She shook his hand. "Thank you so much. I have to go but I wanted to tell you thank you. Thank you! You're a hero. Bless you. Bless you." She ran back into the crowd, to a carriage that departed as she entered.

Hitch glared at him. "And that one?"

"She was on the street...Daniel linked me to a connection he had in one of the trade schools, and I gave her some money to join."

 "How did you know she wasn't going to blow it on whatever and leech off you?!" 

"I could see it in her eyes. She was desperate to escape. If I gave her the chance, I knew she would take it. The idea of her freedom was worth the risk."

Hitch sighed. "People are going to hurt you, Marlowe."

"That won't be anything new."

They moved from the square into the main thoroughfare and took to the sidewalk while carriages rattled past and well-dressed citizens chattered.

"I suppose you think this proved you're right," she sniffed.

"I wasn't thinking that, but it would be a nice effect."

She sent a critical glance his way. "That wasn't gratitude. That was investment and return. You invested in those people and they gave you benefits, just like any other business transaction. You can try to moralize it but it's really just a nice-looking way of getting what you want."

He shook his head. "The girl to whom I gave the money probably cost me more materially than I'll ever get back. And in case you're thinking I might have hoped for favors of a lewder sort, you're wrong. Look at the boy I pushed to be an apprentice. He can give me nothing; I know that. I could've locked him up, but I didn't--because I had faith in him. He could've broken it, but I thought it was worth the risk. I wanted him to be free of crime and contribute to a better society. Change starts with individuals."

"So the return you're hoping for is a society of changed individuals."

"Yes, and you can hardly call me selfish for desiring that."

"People can't DO that, Marlowe!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him to face her. "So you made a few people happy. Great. Now look at the whole damn world. Don't you think if people were capable of that sort of thing, they would've done it already? But everything goes from shit to shittier, and none of those heroes you like to talk about ever show up. They never did for me. Do you know what got me through life? Crawling through the gutter of 'humanity'. If I'd clung to some lofty ideals about my body having worth and my life having value, if I hadn't stooped and started that crawl, I wouldn't be here today. Heroism is for the privileged. I'll bet you came from a nice family where daddy and mommy loved you very much and you had enough money to buy food, maybe even nice clothes and an education! Of course you believe in heroism, you ivory tower brat. Wake up to the real world and shut your damn mouth." She released him and walked off.

"What about those people you mentioned?" He pointed back behind them. "It has to start somewhere! It's not much progress, but it's still movement forward! It doesn't have to be fast to be significant."

She glared over her shoulder. "Great. So we'll have a few months of being nice before their idealism gets them killed in an alleyway, because they wanted to make the poor people there into good citizens!"

He shook his head and stepped to follow after, then remembered the smell of sourdough from the bag he held and paused. He took out a roll. It was warm and soft and smelled delicious. He took a bite and savored it a moment, looking past her but aware of the departing mop of sandy blonde hair.

She was wrong.

He wasn't always right, and that was something he challenged himself to remember. However, just because a great number of people said the same thing didn't mean they were right, either. Truth was not determined by majority vote. Just because they scorned him for not agreeing didn't mean he was wrong.  When he had followed through on his mission, when the corruption had been purged, the system re-arranged, justice and a sense of community returned to the streets and humanity once again presented with the image of their nobility--then they would see. They'd see how short they'd sold themselves. They wouldn't need him to tell them they were wrong because they'd know it, and they'd change. It just took one person to start it.

He started after her and took another bite of roll. The warmth was buoying, like a tangible reminder of the goodness spreading through even the marketplace: a community forming that would only spread further through the city. He was nothing special, but he had a mission. No matter what they said. And it already seemed to be making a difference.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this to be a cute Hilowe, but Hitch threw a wrench in my plans. Hopefully their relationship will improve with time and shared understanding XD


End file.
